


Come Home

by Mouse9



Series: Always 1895 [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 1895, Crossdressing, F/M, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29989713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mouse9/pseuds/Mouse9
Summary: Day three Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2021- Coat Flip, Hair Ruffle, KissSherlolly, but make it Victorian
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Series: Always 1895 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2205948
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34
Collections: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2021





	Come Home

**Three years later:**

Molly Hooper sat in her rooms, unburdened by wigs or fake mustaches or bandages around her chest. Late at night when the boarding house was closed tightly and everyone was in bed, this was the only times she could be free. Breathe the air as herself. 

The men’s nightshirt she wore stopped at midthigh and functioned, for her, as a night dress. She sat at the small table she had in her rooms, looking in a hand mirror and brushing out her hair, when she heard a noise at the window. 

Frowning, she put down the brush and stood up. The sound came again, and she took a hesitant step towards the window, ready to slam it shut. While the night was windy, threatening to storm, there were too many monsters in the evening, and she’d be damned if one slipped into her private quarters.

A sudden gust of wind burst through the open window and the curtains blew inward, fluttering madly. She threw a hand up to keep them from hitting her in the face and took an unconscious step back. 

Then…suddenly, Sherlock Holmes was there. She blinked, mouth opened to speak when he stepped to her. Shaking off his great coat from dust, then sliding his hands over his hair to ensure it was smooth, he took another step towards her, those same large hands reaching out to cup her cheeks. He was closer and her lips parted to speak and then…

Warm breath and the press of firm lips against hers, thumbs on her jaw to tilt her head as his own lips parted against hers and then there was warmth and breath and the most intense feeling of want that flowed over her body. Unbidden, her hands raised to slid against his neck, holding him to her. And then his hands were on her waist, holding her up, pressed against the length of his body and she tasted wind and rain and brandy on his tongue.

* * *

Thunder rolled and Molly sat up in bed, chest heaving, eyes wide with the remnants of the dream. Another grumble of thunder came and with it the sound of rain hitting an open window. Scrambling from her bed, she hurried over and shut the window, keeping out the wet. Shivering, she moved to her small stove and stoked up the fire to warm the room. 

It was a dream. That’s all, only a dream. When why did it feel so real? She could almost taste the brandy on her tongue, a phantom flavor left over. 

If she believed in omens, she might be inclined to think this one. 

Yawning, she climbed back into bed, the covers high over her ears. Four am came early and she needed sleep. She could ponder this tomorrow.

She rapidly fell back to sleep the fading memories of a dream rising once more in her mind. Meanwhile across town, John Watson had fainted and Mary Watson was happily welcoming their friend Sherlock Holmes back from the dead with a hug.


End file.
